The William Gibson quotation, “The future is already here—it’s just not very evenly distributed,” came to mind when I photographed this rusty shed/barn and the moon (where humans have walked) in a single shot together.
The route over the mountains between San Diego and Palm Springs, CA 74, leads down this incredible twisting spiral of two-lane blacktop. Far in the distance, the twinkling lights of the desert valley await night travelers.
Thanksgiving in California, for some, means camping on the shores of the Lake Cahuilla reservoir.
A moment in time, glowing through the fog: lights from the old (now dismantled) and new (still under construction, at the time) eastern spans of the San Francisco—Oakland Bay Bridge.
As a child, I loved the “Incredible Cross Sections” books. In the Aviation Museum of Lexington, I came face-to-face with the real-life equivalent in this supercharger cutaway. I love the way the red paint shows which components have been cut away to reveal the interior.
After the big Traverse City fireworks show over Lake Michigan, Americans on the shores continue to set off their own fireworks. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: this is pretty much the equivalent of kids in the movie theater parking lot hitting each other with plastic lightsabers after a Star Wars movie lets out.
Photoshop’s Super-Resolution algorithm strikes again! This 2012 shot from Timberline Lodge was taken using my beginner-level D3100, but now has all kinds of delicious pixel-peeping detail.
Reflections from the surface of Lake Michigan place fireworks on the same scale with the 80-year-old tug boat William C. Selvick. I particularly like the way the small buoy/float in the foreground is placed within the fireworks’ reflection.
As a child, I dreamed of flying over my home town—viewing all of the familiar paths from high above. Visiting that town last weekend, I was able to photographically make that dream a reality. The forests where I hiked and the town ski jump are all laid out before the drone’s lens.
Part of me wants to imagine that watching fireworks from the stern of a WWII-era tug would be a perfect summer experience… But another part wonders about the chipping paint and rust, hard corners and suspects that there might be some subtleties to perfecting the viewing location.
In the era before digital (a.k.a. glass) cockpits, a face-full of instruments are the norm. As I constantly have to remind my students in lab classes, a machine is something that produces things (including movement) while instruments measure things.
To borrow an Internet cliché, “Name a more iconic summer combination.”
An afternoon of hiking merits a rest in the shade before returning to town for schnitzel.
Zoom waaaay in and you can see two bros, sitting on the front porch of this shell-of-a-cabin and relaxing by their truck full of mountain bikes.
More than any of the other Traverse City fireworks shots I’ve presented so far, I think this one captures the essence of summer: little Lake Michigan waves lapping at the shore, soft beaches, boats moored to piers, and the pair of people relaxing on the rocks in the foreground. They’re the most intriguing part of the image, to me: when everyone else is looking to the sky, what is interesting them more than the fireworks?